


Five Times David Rossi Kissed Aaron Hotchner (and everything was right again)

by masterwords



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Aaron Hotchner Needs a Hug, Forehead Kisses, Happy Aaron Hotchner, Hurt Aaron Hotchner, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Protective David Rossi, Vomiting, Whump, smoke inhalation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:07:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27861249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masterwords/pseuds/masterwords
Summary: As a response to an ask on Tumblr, I humbly submit to you: Aaron Hotchner's five favorite times that David Rossi kissed him. Cute, fluffy, angsty, whumpy...it's a little bit of everything. Here is Part Two (see Part One for more cute.)
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/David Rossi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 67





	Five Times David Rossi Kissed Aaron Hotchner (and everything was right again)

5\. 

Aaron's muscles were ablaze and his chest felt constricted, struggling against a sudden cease in motion to catch his breath. He drug himself along the side of the course, barely able to put one foot in front of the other, until he reached the clearing. Among the sounds of the cheers and hollers of well wishers, his head was swimming and his legs were quaking. He scanned the crowd for a friendly face, someone to fall into. Dave and Jack had been at mile marker 20 with a sign he could scarcely read through the droplets of sweat in his eyelashes, and everything in his body had screamed at him to stop there and just go home with them but he just waved and smiled and soldiered on for 6.2 more miles on legs that felt like flaming jello. They should have had enough time to get to him here, but he couldn't see them. He made his way to the water tent, sucking down a small cup of Gatorade and two waters while a friendly volunteer pushed a bag of salty snacks and granola bars into his hands. The thought of eating anything other than the world's biggest steak and a baked potato the size of his head, his reward for finishing, was unappetizing at best, insulting at its worst. He hadn't just run 26.2 miles to eat a crumbly granola bar and a banana. 

“Dad!” Jack called, running toward him quickly. “You survived! I thought you were gonna die back there! I gotta tell Henry you made it!” Jack pulled out his phone and began feverishly texting his friend who had clearly been very invested in Aaron's marathon completion, probably spurred on by JJ's disbelief that at almost 60 years old he wanted to do something so insane. That made him want to do it even more, especially after reminding her that he still had plenty of time before 60 hit. Dave followed behind with two plastic cups of frothy, ice cold beer in his hands and a smile to end all smiles. 

“Bravo!” he called, handing Aaron his beer and lifting his cup to salute his partner. Aaron lifted his cup with a shaking hand and took a gulp, the first thing he'd put in his body since Dave's Italian feast the night prior that actually made him feel good. 

“Never let me do that again,” Aaron croaked, finding his voice just before taking another blissful gulp.

“No? Not even one more? I hear there is one in France that has wine at each water station...”

Aaron nearly spit out his beer and shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“We'll talk next week,” Dave replied, his eyes twinkling. “Think of all the wine.”

“We have wine here,” Aaron replied sternly, and before he could protest further Dave wrapped him in his arms, pulling Aaron's sweat soaked body hard against his, mouths pressing against one another gently at first, Dave softly parting Aaron's lips, tasting the beer foam and salty sweat against his skin.

“UGH!” Jack cried, rolling his eyes. “Get a room.”

4.

The entire building was silent, nearly all of the lights had been shut off – it was just Aaron and the security officers appointed to each floor, but most of them were reading or probably sleeping as they monitored the cameras. This was often his idea of a wild Friday night, letting the team leave right on time while he stayed behind and tied up the loose ends. They never knew if they were going to get a weekend, so he never wanted paperwork to be the reason any of them lost precious personal time. He didn't have much need for personal time now that Jack was older and spending more time out with friends anyway, and he and Dave saw eachother every day at work so there was no inherent need to get out of work to see someone he missed. Tonight, though, he was there much later than usual and thinking of just staying the night on his rickety old couch. There was a time in his life that the couch was more like a home to him than anywhere else, and tonight he'd be reclaiming those memories rather than drive home. He shot a quick text to the floor security to let them know he'd be staying and not to set the alarm for his unit and looked at his desk clock – 1:34am. There were still 3 case files to dash his signature through, he could be done and asleep in an hour if he could stay focused. 

At 6am, Dave arrived with two coffees in hand and a dry cleaner's bag with a fresh suit inside. When he peered in the window to Aaron's office, he was surprised to find the man asleep at his desk, head cradled in his arms. The rest of the team would be coming in soon for a quick briefing before flying off to Texas, but Dave was almost certain now that Aaron hadn't heard his phone buzzing beside him. He entered the office quietly, noting that Aaron's phone was still beside him and blinking furiously with messages. He rarely put his phone on vibrate at night after the explosion in New York destroyed his hearing. 

Dave draped the suit over the edge of the couch and set down his go bag, checking under the couch for Aaron's bag and pulling it out so it was ready. He peered through the window in time to see JJ breezing into the office and he turned the blinds down, hoping she would give them some time. 

“Aaron?” he asked softly, pressing his lips to the sleeping man's temple gently, hoping to ease him into the bad news. “Aaron?”

“Mmmm,” the other man hummed, shifting a little and cracking one eye open. With blurry vision and a feeling of dread now, he groaned knowing exactly what was about to happen. No one should be here on Saturday, so if they were...bad bad bad. He sat upright and arched his back, rolling the stiffness from his neck and shoulders – he'd pay dearly for sleeping like that. 

“Where?” he muttered, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes and rubbing the sleep from them. 

“Texas,” Dave replied, rubbing Aaron's shoulders, kneading the sleep and stiffness from them. “Galveston. You can sleep on the flight.”

“You know I won't,” Aaron muttered, his eyes fluttering closed, losing himself in the gentle rolling of his muscles. “When?”

“Everyone is on their way now, JJ's setting up in the round table room. She even wants Garcia to fly out.”

Aaron chuckled, at least there was that. Garcia's presence was guaranteed to up the intensity and the smiles. She had a way about her. They heard the team thundering up the stairs now toward the briefing and Aaron stood up, trying to straighten himself up. He tugged at his jacket, pressing at the creases at the bottom where he'd been sitting and frowned. 

“Just get through the briefing, I brought you a fresh suit.”

“What would I do without you?”

“Let's not think about that, huh?” Dave mused, grabbing Aaron by the arm as he was reaching for the door handle. They could see the team's shadows passing in front of the drawn blinds as Dave came in for the good morning kiss to end all good morning kisses. The kind of kiss that made it awfully hard to open that door and join their team. Aaron considered pressing the lock instead, but Dave, intuitive and brilliant Dave finished the kiss and shook his head. 

“We have to go,” Dave chided, and so, with a head full of sleep and a gut full of selfish regret, Aaron lead the way out of his office. 

3.

“So...he was throwing up all day and that was when you decided he needed to be kissed? For the first time? Throwing...up.” Spencer was mortified. He was disgusted. 

“Puking his guts up,” Morgan chimed in, only half listening and half playing around on his phone. Emily laughed. 

“Barfing!” she called, not one to be outdone. 

From the coffee machine they heard JJ shout “worshiping the porcelain gods!” which made them all keel over in fits of laughter. Everyone except Spencer, who looked positively green. 

“All of the above, and yes, that was when it happened,” Dave replied in the singsong way he affected any time he was regaling them with a story, eyeing Spencer in that way that he always did, the way he couldn't help himself. He lived for these moments. 

“Details!” Emily hollered, and JJ called out “hear hear!” as she stirred her coffee and made her way back into the mix. Dave looked around, a little mournful that Garcia wasn't also present but glad that she was up in Aaron's office keeping him good and occupied. 

The details were as follows, so far as Dave's memory was concerned, give or take a few embellishments about how very attractive Aaron was, even while sick. 

_It was snowing outside and the team had just gotten back from a long, rough case in Wyoming, everyone was exhausted and out of sorts. They'd gotten very little sleep, eaten late night meals alone in their rooms and none of them had had a day off in nearing two weeks. To say they were all drained was an understatement. Dave had noticed on the jet that Aaron was especially reserved, even for him, but the team still didn't know their secret and he wasn't going to go broadcasting anything by fawning over him – he just kept a watchful eye on him as he tried to sleep in the darkest corner, arms folded over his chest as if to say stay away from me. He looked paler and sharper than usual, but then again, they may all have after that case. When the jet landed, each of them went their separate ways like zombies stalking through the night, and Dave watched as Aaron disappeared without so much as a goodbye or a goodnight to anyone._

_When he arrived at home, dark rooms freshly cleaned by his maid that day, the scents of cleaning supplies assaulted his fragile, exhausted senses. Normally it was a comforting smell, but it just illuminated his loneliness. He slid into his slippers at the door and made his way for the kitchen, pouring himself a small bourbon night cap. The parlor welcomed him with open arms and he sank into the leather chair, his favorite chair, feeling the day melt away from him. All of it, except the nagging feeling that something was wrong with Aaron. He picked up the phone he'd set on the side table and looked at the time – 2am. Any sane person would be sleeping by now after the week they'd just had, but his nerves weren't there yet. When 3am hit and he was still there with his 2nd bourbon, he finally felt like sleep was possible. As he took his glass back to the kitchen, he caught sight of a shadow moving up his front walk and soon there was a quiet knock at his front door. He looked at the cabinet that held his gun and after a moment of consideration, grabbed it from its slumber and tucked it into the pocket of his robe, one hand inside at the ready._

_The face that stared back at him from the other side of the door was both beautiful and miserable. Aaron stood, still in his suit, shoulders slumped and he looked like he'd been dragged behind a car for a few blocks – much, much worse than when they'd parted ways hours before._

_“Aaron,” Dave murmured, pulling his hand out of his pocket and reaching for Aaron, pulling him inside. The other man didn't struggle, just let himself be pulled along like he had no fight in him at all. Dave guided Aaron down the hallway wordlessly, he didn't need Aaron to tell him he wasn't well. They made it to his bedroom before Aaron showed signs of being worse off than Dave had originally thought – first his arms came to rest protectively around his stomach, then his face contorted into a look of pain and worry, both signs Dave read as a need to find the bathroom immediately. Once in sight of it, Aaron broke himself free and made his way toward the toilet, shutting the door quickly behind him before he proceeded to lose the contents of his stomach. Dave shuddered, he'd always hated that sound, hated to vomit, it made his skin crawl. This continued off and on all night, throughout which neither of them slept. Dave prepared his Nonna's hot lemon water for Aaron during the quiet moments where he lay with his head on Dave's lap watching some old Western on a forgotten channel, and when he rushed to the bathroom, Dave made sure to narrate everything going on in the movie so Aaron didn't miss a beat. Finally, Aaron's body couldn't sustain more and he fell asleep as the sun rose, Dave close behind him. When they awoke sometime around early afternoon, Aaron made a beeline for the bathroom to rinse his mouth, to get that awful taste of decay out. When he collapsed back on the bed, his breath no longer that of a corpse, Dave looked down into his glassy eyes and pressed a soft kiss to the other man's forehead._

_“You're burning up,” he whispered, pulling Aaron, who was shivering ever so slightly now, close to him and pressed another kiss into his matted mess of bed head. “Go back to sleep.”_

“Wait, wait, waaiiiittttt,” Emily whined, rolling her eyes. “You said it was the first time you kissed him...ohhh you _suck_. You're the worst.”

From out of nowhere, Aaron's voice rang out over the bullpen, making all of them jump a little in their seats. “Get back to work, all of you.” When they looked up at him, a little sheepishly, he gave them all just a hint of that sly grin that let them know he wasn't actually upset before heading back into his office. Garcia brushed past them, walking taller than usual after her meeting with the boss man.

“I know all about their real first kiss...” she snipped as she quickly scooted back to her own office, knowing they all wanted desperately to follow her but couldn't. 

2.

The building was still smoldering, dripping now with endless torrents of of water, but the flames were gone. All but one ambulance had stormed away from the scene, sirens blaring, and the one that remained had a staff feeling rather useless as they waited for their patient to come back. Their patient was SSA Aaron Hotchner, who had just spent too long inside without protection attempting to save a child who was being held hostage. In a quiet spot, in plain view of the now dead scene, Agent Hotchner was in a heated discussion with SSA David Rossi. Just to watch them from afar, you would know in an instant that tempers were flaring.

“You could have been killed,” Dave hissed, trying to keep his voice down. In the near silence of the street, he didn't want to risk this conversation being broadcast to everyone but he was boiling over with rage. 

“I wasn't,” Aaron said, his voice hoarse and soft, lungs working double time to pull in oxygen. He felt faint but sheer stubborn desperation kept him upright. “The kid lived. We won.” Every word he took made his chest heave, his throat burn. 

“You can't just do that! You know you can't just do that! The firefighters...”

“Wouldn't have been there in time and you know it! What difference does it make now? It's done.”

“It makes all the difference,” Dave spat, looking at Aaron like he was some kind of monster now. Aaron rolled his eyes and turned on his heel to head back to the ambulance, likely the only time he wished for the solace of those doors closing behind him. He’d saved a child today, and no, he didn’t expect praise but he also didn’t expect to be shouted at either. Dave's hand shot out, grabbing Aaron's sleeve and tugging him back toward him – he wasn't done yet. He stared hard into Aaron's eyes, for a moment he thought he detected something in Aaron that surprised him, something almost fragile – a flinch as Dave pulled him close, like the ghost of his past brushing against his skin, but it was just a flash, something vulnerable that had been pushed back into its fortress. Without another word, Dave grabbed Aaron by the face, hands like vice grips, and pulled him in hard for a kiss. It took Aaron a minute for his mind to catch up to what was happening, his arms hanging limp at his sides, but when the realization hit he let his hands slide up, just a little, to Dave's hips and rest there. Dave's kiss was rough, almost painful, filled with all of the rage and desperate worry he'd felt knowing Aaron was inside that building and there wasn't anything he could do. Aaron felt faint, unable to breathe, his head was swirling and foggy but Dave was breathing his own life into his partner now. When Dave finally released him, he kept his hands where they were, cupping Aaron's jaw a little too hard. 

“You really are an idiot,” Dave said softly, his arms sliding down now to pull his partner in for a hug. “I love you. Don't you ever do something stupid like that again.”

As Dave released Aaron into the capable hands of the very patient EMTs, he promised he'd meet them at the hospital as soon as he could, and wishing he could ride along with him, watched as the ambulance sped off into the night with its sirens calling out to everyone. 

1.

Nine times. Nine wounds that would never really heal, even if the skin gave that impression. Nine wounds that would become nine scars that would always bind Foyet to Aaron. The hospital room was cold and dark, only small glimpses of the light from outside broke through the closed blinds. Emily was sitting and reading a book nearby, keeping her vigil while the team visited Reid in another wing of the hospital. Aaron Hotchner slept – not peacefully, but he slept. 

“My turn,” Dave whispered from the doorway, nothing but a shadow figure with a halo to Emily's tired eyes. She'd been there, off and on, all day. She was ready for a break, hospitals gave her the creeps. “How is he?”

Emily shrugged and began packing up her purse, throwing her phone and reading glasses and book inside. “He's...” she began, but she couldn't find a word that was suitable to describe exactly how he was. Dave just nodded, he understood completely. 

“Go get some rest,” he whispered, wrapping Emily in a hug before she took off down the hall. Dave lingered there in the doorway a moment, just taking in the sight of the man he loved there on that bed. Aaron stirred slightly, the monitors beeping just a little louder, when Dave pulled the chair closer to the bed, but as soon as he was settled into the warm spot Emily had just vacated, everything went quiet again and stayed that way all afternoon and into the evening. Dave had nearly finished reading the novel he'd brought along when he noticed Aaron's eyes flutter open, blinking dazedly around the room, finally landing on him. 

“Hey,” Dave whispered, smiling softly. Aaron just looked at him, almost through him, confused, and Dave held back waiting for his partner to get his bearings. Instead, his eyes drifted shut again – false alarm. These people had him on some good drugs. 

The next time Aaron woke was well into the night – Dave was asleep in the chair, curled up as comfortably as he could be when out of nowhere all of the machines began buzzing and beeping wildly. His eyes shot open to find Aaron looking like a terrified, wounded animal, panting hard and waving his arms around at some invisible force surrounding him. Dave could see blood peeking out from a bandage on his arm, and another at his chest where he was tearing wildly at something that wasn't there. His eyes had all the look of terrified emptiness, and he was muttering under his breath something panicked and unintelligible.

“Aaron? Aaron are you there?” Dave asked, trying to grab Aaron's hands, to settle the man on the bed. Aaron paid him no attention, and Dave realized he was having a nightmare. His eyes were open but he wasn’t awake, not even a little. He braced Aaron's hands against the bed and tried to wake his partner, watching as the fear and anger gave way to tears, big glowing orbs streaking their way in rivulets down Aaron's cheeks now and Dave couldn't think of anything else to do but press the nurse call button wildly while holding Aaron's hands in place so he couldn't do himself any further harm. There was blood everywhere now, places he hadn't seen before, and he wondered how long Aaron had been thrashing before he'd woken up. Two nurses rushed in, ushering Dave back away from the bed as they carefully saw to their patient. Once he was calmed down and they had him awake and cognizant of his surroundings, they told Dave that these fits were common in patients who had experienced severe trauma and were under heavy sedation. That did not settle his nerves at all. 

Once the two of them were alone again, Aaron stared blankly up at the ceiling, tears the last remnants of his nightmare that wouldn't stop. 

“I’m sorry,” Aaron whispered, humiliation and despair all that was left of the madness of his nightmare. Dave reached out and touched Aaron's cheek, feeling the tears against his fingertips and leaned forward until he was so close there was nothing more to do than press his lips against Aaron's. He was lost in the taste of those salty tears, pooling there between their skin, his's fingers gently brushing up into Aaron's hair, his other hand resting against the rough gauze wrapping at his neck. Aaron relaxed into the contact, and after catching his grip on reality, kissed back. When they separated, Dave stayed close, nose to nose, fingers tracing along the edges of bandages that hid horrors he wasn't sure he'd ever be ready to see. 

“Don't go,” Aaron croaked, his voice laced with helplessness and pain. “Please.”

“I'm not going anywhere.”


End file.
